In The Space Of Two Heartbeats
by darlasmom
Summary: In the space of two heartbeats, the space two heartbeats occupy, entire worlds can change. BB, humor/fluff/romance. Established relationship.


**A one-shot! I haven't done a one-shot in so long! I really missed them, but my multi-chapter story The Bet has been giving me fits and hogging my time. Still, though, I felt the need to put out something happy, as Bet has been VERY angst-y lately. So this story is really fluff/humor, with a little heart for good measure. Yes, this should make my fluff bunnies happy! Hope you enjoy it, and if you're reading Bet, please be patient. I promise I'm working on that, too!**

**IN THE SPACE OF TWO HEARTBEATS**

"Bones..." Panting in exhaustion, his heart rate beginning to slow from its near-supersonic speed, Booth raised his head from where it hung listlessly over the end of the bed. With a silent chuckle he realized they were lying diagonally on the mattress with their feet near the top of the bed. _How did we even get in here? Weren't we in the shower?_ He let his head drop back with a throaty moan, his mind finally registering that the sheets were soaked. _We were in the shower. I thought so..._ Since the only answer he'd gotten from the naked female strewn limply across him was a gusty sigh, he tried again. "Bones, you alive?" Her head stirred slightly on his chest, the soggy ropes of her hair sticking to him. He tried one more time, his hand sliding up to palm her hip. "Earth to Bones..."

"Mmm, sorry. Bones isn't here right now." His fingers twisted and she gasped and jerked against him. "Stop it! I told you no tickling!"

"And _I_ told _you_ that you can't make a rule like that." He flicked his fingers against her with a grin. "Certain couple things are sacrosanct, and tickling is one of them."

She slapped his hand away from her side. "Is ass-kicking one of the others?" When he only chuckled evilly and tickled her again she stretched, then rolled quickly off of him and across the bed before he could stop her. Knowing he'd be right behind her, she just as quickly stood, putting space between herself and the bed. From her more distant position she eyed him warily, her stern gaze taking in his wicked expression and tensed muscles. He might be prone at the moment, but she had firsthand knowledge that he could move faster than anyone she'd ever met. Certainly faster than her, as he'd proven beyond a doubt. Often to very pleasurable effect. "You're incorrigible, Booth."

"And you knew that about me before you agreed to be my girlfriend." Relaxing for the moment, he flexed his arms and stood, ignoring her sudden step backward when he crossed to the bureau.

"You know I don't like that term."

"Girlfriend, paramour, soul-mate, love monkey, whatever makes you happy. You decide." He didn't have to wait long for her response, and he laughed out loud when the pillow hit him in the back with a surprisingly solid thump. Whirling, he lunged and flung out his arm, trapping her against the wall before she could sprint out into the living room. "Now come on, Bones, we can't have you traipsing around the apartment naked. Whatever would the people across the street think?" Easily anticipating her next gambit, he shoved close and ran his hands firmly down her body. The breathless groan she gave him alerted him that she was done fighting for the moment, and he let his lips drift down her neck to her collarbone so he could indulge in a slow nibble.

She tipped her head to the side to afford him better access. He really had the most effective mouth. "I don't recall that being an issue when we had sex against the living room wall..."

He moved against her; a slow, seductive press. "You've got an awfully smart mouth on you, you know that, Bones?"

"Actually, it's impossible for a mouth to be smart, but you're correct if you meant that _I'm_ smart."

On a low growl, he caught her lower lip between his teeth, tugging possessively until she was quivering helplessly against him. "You know what?" he murmured between deep, hot kisses. "Forget the smart mouth. You just talk too much, period."

She allowed him to control the torrid encounter for several very satisfying moments before freeing her lips from his with an audible _pop_. "I'm hungry."

"Me too." Smiling darkly, eyes intense, he shot her a keen look. "I thought we were taking care of that right now."

"No, Booth, I'm really hungry." She nipped at his chin, and then pushed him away. "Do you have anything to eat?"

"Bones, you _know_ I do. I stocked in all that organic stuff you like, and the whole-grain cereal. I also have fresh fruit and bagels and yogurt. What do you want?"

"Pancakes."

"Excuse me?" Stopping with one leg in his boxer shorts, he blinked at her in shock. "_You_ want pancakes?" When she merely nodded, he gaped at her for a moment before regaining his composure. "Temperance Brennan wants pancakes. Mark _this_ date down in the books."

"What? I like a treat once in a while, just like everyone else."

"Once in a while? Bones, I've known you for five years, and I can count on one hand the number of times you've eaten something unhealthy." He caught the frown she was directing at him and smiled. "Don't get me wrong, I think it's great. You want fruit pancakes? I have blueberries and strawberries..."

"That sounds good." She began to root around for her clothes, wrinkling her nose when she found them and saw their grimy state. "Do you have something I can wear? I don't want to put these back on."

"I don't blame you – that was one hell of a muddy call." Fishing around in the bottom drawer of the bureau, he grabbed a t-shirt and sweats and tossed them to her. "Here. These should do."

She caught them on the fly and began shaking the wrinkles loose. "I don't like wearing your sweatpants. They always fall down."

"And that's a problem _why_?"

"Shut up, Booth." Brow raised, lips twitching, she began to step into the sweats but paused when the size caught her eye. "Whose sweatpants are these?"

"They're yours."

"No they're not. This isn't the brand I buy. "She regarded him with an odd glint in her eye. "Where did these come from?"

"I told you. They're yours."

"Booth, I just told you I know they're _not_ mine. Do they belong to a former lover?"

"What? _No_, Bones, they don't belong to anyone else. Look at them."

She opened her mouth to argue, but paused when he raised his eyebrows. "Fine." The minute she studied them closely she realized he was correct. The folds were deep and slightly dusty, and a faded tag dangled discreetly from the waistband. "These have never been worn."

"Exactly."

"I don't understand."

He sighed good-naturedly, accustomed to the response. "I got them for you, Bones."

"But they're obviously quite old. When did you buy them?

"Two years ago."

"What?" Baffled by his responses, she nonetheless donned the pants to ward off the slight chill in the room. "Why did you do that?"

"I thought you might need them one day."

"Because I'd get dirty at a crime scene?"

"No. Well, kinda. I bought them for _you_." He smiled craftily at her look of confusion. "In case you were here, _with _me, and needed something to wear. Get it?"

A flash of comprehension lit her face. "Wait – they're for after we started having sex."

"Good girl, Bones. You got it..."

"But you would have had no idea that that would eventually happen. Why did you prepare for something that might never occur?" Crossing her arms, she moved across to stand in front of him. "That was exceedingly illogical."

"But hopeful." Severely distracted by the sight of her lovely breasts propped up so invitingly, he tried to keep his eyes trained on hers. "Hope springs eternal, you know, Bones." He stepped closer and linked his arms around her waist, unable to refuse the creamy invitation of her skin. "I wanted this for a long time, and after a few years working cases with you, it seemed like it might happen. I just wanted to be prepared in case it _did_ happen." A deep laugh rumbled in his chest. "A couple of women almost had to leave here bare-assed, even after I bought those. They were earmarked for you from the beginning." He firmed his hold and tugged her even closer, luxuriating in the feel of her softness against his chest. "You don't have to wear them if you don't want to. It's no big deal."

"Of course I'll wear them. Thank you, Booth." Leaning in, she met his lips in acknowledgement. "It will be nice to have something dry and clean to wear home." Little by little, her fingers crept up his arms to his broad shoulders, where they gripped him tightly.

"Um...I was actually kind of hoping you'd leave them here."

"How would I get home, then?"

"We could wash your clothes here, and then you could wear them home." In a brazen attempt to quash the inevitable argument, he continued with barely a pause. "See, they're _for_ you, but they're actually still mine. You know," he explained in response to the silent question in her eyes, "I have custody of the sweatpants."

"You're being silly, Booth. If you bought them for me, then they're mine. I'll just wear them home and bring them back once I've washed them."

Undaunted, he refused to let go of her. "Well, what if I don't want you to?"

"Then I'll pay you for them," she responded tartly.

"Nope." He resisted her efforts to push away from him, instead bending down and nuzzling her nose with his. "I have a better suggestion."

"And what would that be?" Smiling, she leaned her forehead against his, enjoying his tactile nature and even his whimsical qualities in a way she'd never thought she'd be able to allow herself to, just a few short years ago.

"Joint custody."

"What!" Stunned, she backed away as far as the restraint of his arms would allow so she could stare incredulously at him.

"You heard me. Joint custody. The sweatpants live here, and I own them. But when you're here, they're yours, and _you_ own them."

"Silly," she said again. "There's no such thing as joint custody of _clothing_, Booth.

"So? We'll make it up, then. I think the sweats will be happier if we share custody. Don't you?"

"Actually, studies have shown that sweats thrive when both parents are a constant and active presence." She had the almost visceral thrill of watching his eyes go blank and dark, his mouth sag in surprise.

"Bones...what..."

"I think the sweatpants would flourish having _both_ parents in the household."

He couldn't breathe, was having trouble drawing in enough air to speak. He might never want to breathe again. "What are you saying, Bones?"

"I think you know exactly what I'm saying, Booth." Enjoying the powerful punch of pleasure at having him at a complete loss for once, she linked her fingers behind his neck and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

He needed her close, closer than she was; as close as they could possibly be. Lashing a strong arm around her waist, he straightened and walked her toward the bed, spinning at the last second so she settled on top of him when he fell. "Bones..."

Cohabitation, Booth. That's what I'm saying. To occupy the same space. To live together in an emotionally and physically intimate relationship. To coexist in common environs with another person." She smiled at the growing look of wonder on his face. "From the Late Latin meaning to have possession together. Circa 1520." When he began to speak in response she dropped her head to his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart beating, complementing perfectly the low vibration of his voice.

"To make a home with a loved one. To lean on each other. To hold another person in the daytime and during the night." Unable to control the burgeoning joy in his chest, he dropped a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the lovely mix of her shampoo and _her_. "To stand for and with another. To trust someone with your safety, and your happiness, and your heart. From the Late Latin, Circa 2009."

Lifting her head, she looked at him, utterly serious in an instant. "Booth...I still don't believe in marriage. But..."

"But you've made a vow. So have I. And that's good enough for me. It's all I ever wanted, Bones. All I ever really hoped for, for us." His wide, careful palms soothed circular patterns on her slender back. "Partnership. True partnership. Nothing more – and nothing _less_."

She lay flat again, everything in her glowing and swelling impossibly larger, larger, until she finally realized that she was _happy_. So this was what it felt like, to _belong_. To be a family.

His hands continued to sweep her back and waist, slowly but surely drifting lower until they dipped deep under the heather-grey cotton to caress her bare bottom. She sensed more than saw the wolfish smile spreading across his face when he realized she wasn't wearing underwear.

"I think you forgot something, Bones."

His fingers firmly molded her, and she was unable to resist the temptation to arch into his teasing grasp. Laughing wickedly, she sat up and straddled him, satisfied when his eyes dropped to her chest and he ground erotically against her. "No I didn't, Booth. I don't ever forget _anything_." She saw it in his eyes the instant before he moved and squealed with delight as he flipped her to her back and fell hungrily on her, his hands and mouth and body everywhere all at once. For a split second she stared unseeing, past his shoulder to the dull white ceiling, the diagonal crack branching out in a fan pattern. Yes. This was belonging. This was family.

It was everything.

**Thank you so much for taking the time to read - I really appreciate it more than I can say. I hope you enjoyed it - I have to admit that I really enjoyed writing it!**


End file.
